


A Christmas Spell

by Lilith888



Series: The Chronicles of broken spells and loves [3]
Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Before The Last Hours, Before The Third Ring, Christmas Party, Christmas Spell, Christmas present, Downworlders, M/M, Mentioned Camille, Mentioned Hypatia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith888/pseuds/Lilith888
Summary: "When Magnus heard of an underground downworlders’ party in Greenwich, he thought it would be the perfect occasion to finally wear something gold and brilliant, a wonderful new outfit he had gifted himself after his last adventures in France.When Matthew heard of the party, well, he thought that anything would be better than another dinner with unknown Shadowhunters, and the constant reminder of what he had done to his mother and his family."
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Matthew Fairchild, Magnus Bane/Matthew Fairchild
Series: The Chronicles of broken spells and loves [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065452
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	A Christmas Spell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilvinLewisDragneel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvinLewisDragneel/gifts).



> It's Christmas Week and this is my first Christmas on AO3 as an author, so I decided to write little presents for people who have helped and inspired me with their comments and kudos.  
> In this case, the gift is for SilvinLewisDragneel, the first to comment my first story, "The Third Ring"!  
> Thank you for your enthusiastic comments!

Magnus was back at London. He didn’t really enjoy England in December, it was rainy, cold and no matter how many colours he was wearing, everything still seemed grey.

Matthew was seventeen, young, strong, smart and despised Christmas. He hated being surrounded by people pretending to be happy, to be grateful, to be enjoying themselves.

When Magnus heard of an underground  downworlders ’ party in Greenwich, he thought it would be the perfect occasion to finally wear something gold and brilliant, a wonderful new outfit he had gifted himself after his last adventures in France.

When Matthew heard of the party, well, he thought that anything would be better than another dinner with unknown  Shadowhunters , and the constant reminder of what he had done to his mother and his family. 

Matthew was well known in the  Downworld , his tastes in matter of wine, drugs and company had made him welcomed in an inner dissolute circle. So, when he entered the room in his deep green three-piece suit, he was immediately served and, with a whiskey in his hand, he started scanning the room. It was someone’s apartment; the main space was the living room where at least a dozen between vampires and fairies were drinking and chatting. He heard the sound of music coming from the back of the house. Following it, he found himself standing on the top of a flight of stairs going down in what was probably the basement. The basement was a single bare room, enlightened by candles and a little of magic. The music was sensual, low and full of power, coming from a corner in the dark. Smoke and the smell of sweat and magic completed the atmosphere. There were people dancing, others kissing,  some doing both. The spell was like a hand, stroking each body, each spiral of smoke, each empty glass left in a corner. It was nothing new, and yet it was always surprising how much he was able to feel free in confined places if full of smoke, alcohol,  downworlders and sex. He had an insatiable hunger for freedom, to be free to be angry, free to have desires, free to feel alive, in pain, or guilty. No one cared about who he was or what he wanted in that room. And almost everyone was willing to give him exactly what he needed.

When Magnus finally got to the party it was already late, everyone was already high, excited and loud. But his face was too famous to pass unnoticed. A few vampires greeted him; a fairy that was almost naked tried to pull him upstairs. There was no other warlock in sight, yet he could feel the magic surrounding the place, keeping the house undetected, and keeping everyone calm and satisfied. A subtle spell, well done, probably Hypatia’s work. He poured himself something really red and that smelled like maple syrup, a fairy Christmas drink, absolutely wonderful. He stayed upstairs maybe ten minutes, chatting, refilling his glass and getting high just enough. Only a few vampires complimented him for his outfit, and it was unacceptable, he hadn’t put all that effort for such a little recognition. He excused himself and followed the music downstairs. The scene was totally different. It was darker, the music loud, the bodies intertwined in different dances, an inviting smell of perdition was filling the place, making Magnus shiver. There was so much magic, sex, desire and desperation that he was overwhelmed. His magic was really interested in joining that carousel, in particular something was catching its attention in the darker corner of the room, near the improvised bar, a table full of half-empty glasses and bottles.

“Magnus! I didn’t expect you to be here!” a young vampire made him shift his attention.

“Nathaniel, good to see you” it wasn’t really good.

“Camille isn’t here, if you are looking for her”.

“I wasn’t actually” and that was the reason he wasn’t happy to see that particular vampire, he was one of Camille disciples. And Magnus wasn’t there for her, he didn’t want to have anything to do with her at all.

“So, you are here alone?”.

“Actually no” fuck, he needed to get rid of that little nuisance.

“Oh well,  and, where is she?”.

Magnus started scanning the basement. He let his magic guide him toward the dark corner that had caught his attention before. Two men were kissing and the little light was probably hiding something more. When the one who was definitely a werewolf started kissing the neck of the other, the eyes of the boy locked with his. The recognition passed through Magnus and the shadowhunter. It was James’ Parabatai, the Fairchild boy. Matthew pushed away the other man and tried to straighten his clothes. Magnus smiled at him and turned again toward Nathaniel. “HE is over there. Enjoy the party”.

“You always had a blind spot for shadowhunters”.

“Can you blame me?” and Magnus left before getting a reply he didn’t care at all about. He started walking toward the boy. 

Matthew was in total panic. No one who actually knew him, his family and in particular James, knew his little secret. Magnus wasn’t supposed to be in London, at that party. He wasn’t supposed to see him kissing a downworlder, and a boy in particular. And the warlock was walking through the dancing crowd to reach him. Matthew picked a random glass from the table, he smelled it, gin wasn’t his favourite but was alcoholic enough, and drank it.

“Magnus” an enough casual tone.

“Matthew, it’s a surprise to see you here” Magnus put his hand on the boy’s arm, getting in return a confused look “There is a person that I really want to avoid”.

“And this is your plan?” Matthew looked again at the warlock’s hand.

“You were the only person that I recognize in here. Sorry for interrupting”.

The boy got all red “You didn’t interrupt anything”.

“Happy to hear it” Magnus got a little closer, whispering in Matthew’s ear “And I am really grateful for your help”.

“So, you won’t tell anyone...”

“That you saved me from a very annoying vampire? If you don’t want to, I won’t”.

Matthew looked firmly in his eyes, looking for derision and malice but there was none “I think it’s better if we keep it between us.

Magnus’ hand slowly stroked his arm, then dropped to find the shadowhunter’s hip and caress the fine fabric of the suit “You know, for being a  shadowhunter you really have fine tastes about suits”.

Matthew blushed a little, more from the contact than because of the compliment “Thank you, nothing compared to your coat. Is it  French ?”.

“How did you guess?”.

“Gold silk is a French prerogative”.

“You really are full of surprises”.

Matthew lowered his eyes “No one knows...”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. And I am also in your debt, so...”

“So?”.

“So, I owe you one”.

The boy laughed, finally relaxed under the touch of the warlock “Maybe one day I’ll collect it”.

“I can’t wait” laughed back Magnus. 

Shadowhunters really were his weakness, but under Hypatia’s spell he couldn’t care less. 


End file.
